Thursday, September 21, 2006

Jo and I worked on our soon to be announced website for the Shepherd's Call for three hours over the phone. Afterall, she lives in Nashville- three hours away from me. Distance isn't going to inhibit our work. Now I've got butterflies fluttering about inside at the potential of our project- I mean it. I must say, I am so very proud of our work.

I dashed off the phone in time to drive Tater to soccer practice and have a run on my favorite path. I asked God, "Will the bunny be there?"
I got a very clear answer, "Not until you show your son after practice. The bunny will be there for you and your son to share."

As I stretched my thighs, calves, and quads on the grass before the run, I noticed the rich green clover mixed into the grass. "God, wouldn't it be delightful if you'd wish me luck on The Shepherd's Call with a four leaf clover?" I grinned at the silliness of my request. I don't recall ever finding a four leaf clover myself before, but my son Peace picks them in abundance.

As I leaned my head forward onto my left knee, an impossible thing caught my eye. "It can't be." But it was. A four leaf clover. A present from God to me to wish me luck. I plucked it in amazement at the intimacy I felt with Him at that moment.

"All right, God. Shouldn't there be one for Jo too?" I joked back with Him in my playful joy.
I reached for my other foot snuggled into a worn running shoe, and I could not believe my eyes. The second miraculous four leaf clover poked proudly just in my reach beyond the plastic black and powder blue tip of my toe. I snatched it up, and carefully placed both of my treasures in a safe place between the front carseats of my reliable old Honda.

I haven't explained this before, but sometimes I trust God to speak to me in the "shuffle songs" setting of my ipod, but sometimes I don't. I decided today God might just want to say more than "Good luck", and even though the first three songs in the shuffle annoyed me for various hard hearted reasons, I let God pick the songs. The theme which I gleaned from listening to God's mix turned out to be something along the lines of, "True, here are your spheres of influence reflected in these songs and those you see on the path while you run."

You might wonder, what I saw on the path besides the normal Canada geese, ducks, and a few squirrels? I saw a group of middle school boys hanging, a mom and daughter, a couple, a couple with a baby, an hispanic man, an older woman with that "teacher" look, a woman a little older than myself, and another group of local middle or high school boys and girls.

Remember, I was also looking for Jesus in the bunny in my five loops around, but he did not appear. I saw another bunny rush across the path at another location, but I could tell he was not mine, his body too long, too sleek, too grown. The still small voice reminded, "He's not the one. You'll see Jesus bunny with your son."

When I approached Tater, I heard him announce loudly twice, "That sucks!" In my book, "sucks" rhymes with other curse words and isn't permitted in the Vyne household unless it correlates with drinking through a straw. I kept my mouth shut for once, and asked Tater to collect his ball and follow me.

"Where are we going, Mom?" he asked suspiciuosly.

"I want to show you something which makes me think of you when I run." I threw as a "bone".

He hates secrets and bugged me the entire quarter of a mile, "What is it? What is it?"

I lowered my voice to a whisper"When we go around this bend, you must keep your ball in your hands and not speak a word, or you won't be able to see it."

"Mom, that doesn't make any..."

"Shhh, Honey. Trust me. You'll like this."

Consider the fact that Mr. Long Ears hadn't been there five times before that same evening, but with my new found clover faith, I knew he'd be wiggling his nose and flashing his huge black eyes when my boy rounded the bend.

Tater's eyes grew wide as he hushed out, "Mom! Is he always there? Maybe it's someone's pet that got loose. He lets you get so close. Can we take him home? Please, Mom. Please? We have a place for him."

I giggled and spoke softly, "This is his home. I don't think he'd like a cage. Besides we visit often."

When Tater got within a foot of his brown cotton ball tail, Mr. Long Ears lept back into the brush.

Next Tater and I went on a hunt for Touch-Me-Nots seed pods together. Tater worried the bursting seeds might sting when their natural "flingers" projected their bounty. The sun faded too quickly, and he never got to test his concern.

Is it trite to write the lessons learned? If so, I'll risk the goober consequences.

My Big Dad loves me deeply. I ask for something simple, and it is His pleasure to place it in my hands. God knows my past, present, and future. He's not concerned as much with my particular musical tastes as much as He with me in learning my lessons well. He's making a way for me to share my gifts with everyman. My Jesus loves my son and I and whispers a unsophisticated plan to tie our hearts together in a bundle of three in sharing an alluring creature in the shape of a not yet grown rabbit and among brilliant orange flowers.


Blogger sandy said...

True, I just started my own blog (The Electric Avenue School For a Girl) and just found yours. What a pleasure to read your posts! I love David Crowder and Matt Redmon too, but most of all I love our Big Dad. Thanks for posting. We have a bunny that came to live in our garden this spring. I'll never look at him the same way again!

10:06 PM  
Blogger truevyne said...

Thanks, Sandy. I'll check out your blog soon, and thanks for visiting mine. I really thought this blog had no readers, but my other one does...
Now I'll have to watch what I write!

5:29 AM  

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